User blog comment:Llamao/The Underground/@comment-3474228-20120627211733

"We cannot banish dangers, but we can banish fears. We must not demean life by standing in awe of death"

In a city filled with rage, hope has nowhere to go. Yet it lives on within the holocaust, isolated but shining bright underneath the veil of inflammation. But even this thought, sometimes, isn't enough. And so it was for the otter as he was dragged across a hard, rugged floor, his paws tied tightly behind his back with a length of tough rope. His vision was nonexistent behind the heavy black covering over his head which was secured to his neck. He found it increasingly harder to breath, the air getting hotter with every painful step that his manacled footpaws took.

And then with a sudden movement, the fresh blast of air entered his world, and he found that he could see again. Peering both ways, he saw that he was surrounded by a group of otters not unlike himself. Loathing and abhorrence was apparent on the faces of the beasts standing in front of the row of otters. One of them spit on the ground violently, shaking its head as it glared at the pathetic frazzled creatures kneeling down before it. And then, the shrill cry of accusation rung in the otter's ears, piercing every corner of his mind. "It was him, Lord! That one!"

His heart began to beat faster and he frantically looked to the side before closing his eyes. But it was not he that was picked up. It was the creature next to him, an unfortunate pickpocket only attempting to make a living. But now, the task force would see to it that he would only be awarded death. With a crooked grin that etched itself into the otter's memory, the general of all of Queenstown's taskforce spoke, his voice like a loud raspy whisper. "For numerous crimes committed upon the civilians of Queenstown, your disgusting soul has been awarded a ticket to Hellgates."

Time slowed down as the otter gazed pitifully at Muddjak, who could only hold his tongue in silence as the large axe fell downwards. And then it was over. Blood spattered across the floor, creating a soft crimson cushion for the severed head, which came to a gentle rest at the foot of the grinning general. Only after his moments of revelry did he seem to notice the others, still kneeling with their paws bound. "Let them go..." The general turned his back as the otters were hauled up roughly, but spun around a moment later, a sly treacherous smile on his face as he stared directly at Muddjak. "Except that one."